November Alone
by CanvasPrincess
Summary: Gilbert and Roderich fight, and Gilbert takes it to heart. Feeling insecure, he runs away, leaving Roderich with hidden notes and open-ended questions.
1. Chapter 1

**_So this is only the second fanfiction I've ever written, it's the only one I've posted here. I have plans for this, but I could always use feedback! Please enjoy!~CanvasPrincess_**

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Roderich sat at his piano, and began to play Debussy's "Clair De Lune" a quiet piece well known to him and it seemed to suit the day. Today was dull and rainy, which made his music room feel smaller and warmer than usual. The gentle chords seemed to reflect the delicacy of the moment, and for once, the young Prussian had not been by to interrupt. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes and played the last few notes. Feeling satisfied, he stood and went to make a cup of tea.

No sooner than he had gone to reach for the teacup, there was a loud banging on the door. Rolling his eyes, he set the cup down and went to answer it. _At least he had the courtesy to knock this time._ He thought sarcastically. Sighing, he heaved open the door.

"What is it now Gilbert?" Austria asked without looking at him. The Prussian leapt at him and threw his arms around him and knocked them both into the house.

"Roddy!" he giggled happily. The Austrian struggled to push away. "Get off me! You're soaking wet!" he snarled as he got up.

"Awww Roddy, why are you always so uptight? It's not like a little water's gonna hurt you," he sulked childishly. Without another word, he walked into the living room and threw himself on the couch and turned on the T.V.

"What are you thinking? You're going to get my furniture all wet, get up!" he hissed at the albino as he followed him. The other didn't move.

"Come on specs, it's not like I have any clothes to change into. Just let me hang here for a while," he replied casually.

"Next time go home! It's not like you live here!" he spat back as he returned to the kitchen to pour his tea, muttering under his breath.

Without warning, the Prussian had snuck up behind Roderich and locked his arms around his waist. Smirking, he whispered in his ear,

"I was just lonely, why are you always so mad at me? Don't you love me at all?" he pouted. Furious, the brunette slapped his hands away.

"Stop it. I never said anything about loving you. You only come here to poke fun at me and eat my food," he replied coldly as he walked down the hall to the library.

Slightly annoyed now, the Prussian stood in the hallway and called back, "So cold. Fine, I _will _leave. And if I don't come back, you probably won't care anyway." And he stomped out the front door, leaving it wide open.

With an aggravated sigh, the Austrian got up to close the door. Already the Prussian was out of sight. _He's bluffing_. He'd come back and repeat the process again tomorrow, the way he always did.

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When the Prussian arrived home, he stripped down to his boxers and threw a warm blanket over himself. _Gott,_ _stupid aristocrat is such a pain in the ass sometimes._ He was serious this time; he wouldn't go back to the pansy's house until he came on his hands and knees begging him to. _Or better yet…_ the albino got a cruel idea in his head as he searched to find paper. He began furiously writing letters of just a few sentences each on several pieces of paper. _Kesesese- _he laughed to himself. _I'm so awesome. _He sat in front of his laptop writing for over an hour before he was finished.

Feeling content, he stood up smiling. He would show that pansy for kicking him out; of course, he was hurt inside from his obvious rejection, _why on the hell doesn't he love the awesome me?_ But he was going away for a long time, and the stupid aristocrat would probably care less anyway.

"Oi, West!" he called. "I'm going to Ivan's, I'm not sure when I'll be back," he said casually.

"What? Bruder are you insane? He could kill you!" Ludwig cried back angrily. "What reason do you have for going back?" The Prussian simply smiled.

"It's not like you can stop me little bruder. I'm going back of my own accord, and if that pansy aristocrat comes asking for me, you might as well tell him I'm dead," he replied nonchalantly.

"Bruder, this isn't some kind of sick joke is it? You can't honestly be serious about going back to Ivan's?" he asked, a little less sternly now.

"I'm perfectly sure. I'm the awesome me, I can do whatever I want." He picked up his backpack off the table filled with the letters. "Bruder, thank you for looking after me, but I'm going now," he smiled almost sadly. Then he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

Ludwig shook his head. "Bruder, you better come back," he whispered to himself as he stood in the doorway.

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That night, the Prussian snuck into the Austrians house. Skillfully and silently, he hid every one of the notes he had written in the oddest places in the house so that he wouldn't find them all at once. The last note he slipped deliberately under his glasses he had left on the nightstand. With a final look at the sleeping brunette, he climbed out the window and disappeared into the night.

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When Roderich woke the next morning, he was shocked at the cold draft. Sitting up, he looked up and saw the window left wide open. _That's funny, I could've sworn…_ he reached for his glasses, and there was a note left underneath it. Adjusting his glasses, he picked it up and read it,

_**Guess what priss? By the time you're done reading this, I'll probably be dead.**_

_**Aren't you lucky?**_

A wave of despair even colder than the November wind swept through the Austrian. At first, he truly believed it, but then regaining his composure, he dismissed it as nothing but another trick meant to scare him. But as the day went on and there was no further signs from the Prussian. He worried, and by the time night had fallen, he was slightly on edge. As he lay down to sleep, he couldn't help but leave the window open. _Where on earth, could he have gone?_


	2. Chapter 2

**_So this chapter is a little darker than I had planned, but it still seemed fitting because now I have a good idea of where I want this to go. Also, Now that the first chapter is complete, it should usually go from Austria's point of view to Prussia's. Austria's will be boring the first few chapters -" but they will get better! Thank you for all the story faves/alerts and reviews. This helps me write more! ~CanvasPrincess

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Three days after the first note, there was no sign of the Prussian. Still unmoved, Roderich continued about his usual business, and kept to the house. He headed down to the music room and sat down at his piano. Today's piece was Chopin's Etude in C minor, Op. 10 No.12 "Revolutionary". It was a very fast, very emotional piece, which the Austrian usually played when he was particularly troubled. His hands fluttered across the keys, he performed the fast arpeggios and quick scales flawlessly until his right hand hit the high C, which refused to sound, and replied with a meek note. Angered, he stood from the piano and looked into the grand piano's strings to see what was causing the problem. There was a piece of paper caught between the high C string and the C# string. He carefully pulled the scrap from the piano and set it on the top of the piano while he finished his music. Once again, the music room echoed with the fast, dark, piano etude. He released his anger through his fingers onto the piano and his face was grim with concentration.

When the piece was finished, he opened his eyes and glanced at the paper. Adjusting his glasses, he picked it up and opened it to find another note from the Prussian.

_**Hey specs, why don't you play something more awesome? **_

_**Better yet, don't play anything! Kesesese-get a life, damn Aristocrat.**_

Annoyed, he threw the piece of paper in the waste basket and walked out of the music room. The damn Prussian must have left dozens of notes throughout his house. Cursing under his breath, he continued to the living room, where he sat and turned on his own T.V., something he never did unless he had company. He would sometimes watch a movie with Elizabeta, or sometimes watch from the kitchen when the albino decided to come over unannounced. He flipped channels for nearly an hour before falling asleep on the couch in a dreamless sleep.

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The albino was now slightly worried with what he had gotten himself into. He had come to Ivan's as a way of saying he wouldn't go back, but now, he regretted his choice. Of course, the Russian welcomed the Prussian back into his home, but saw the cold look in his eyes that was misleading. The other members of the household were as he remembered, pale and silent. Whenever any of them spoke, it was always a stutter of fear, and the smallest one, the Latvian, cried and shook. The long-haired pale girl usually clung to Ivan's arm, even when it was the arm holding the pipe. The shorter haired Ukrainian would usually keep to her own room, and sometimes when he walked by, she cried softly. The Lithuanian had spoken to him when he arrived.

"Why did you come back?" Toris had asked. "You had actually made it out of here!" he had told him in a horrified whisper.

"Didn't have much reason to stay," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"But Ivan, he could _kill _you this time, why are you throwing your life away this way?" he pleaded again.

"Toris, I came back because I found that maybe I'm not _supposed_ to live anymore. I'm an ex-nation, remember? I'm not worth anything to anybody," he replied coldly.

"But what about your brother? And Roder…" but the Prussian cut him off.

"Don't talk about the damn aristocrat!" he snapped. "He doesn't care at all about me," he finished. The Lithuanian hesitated before replying again.

"D-Don't say that. I'm sure that they all worry about you very much; I know everyone was worried when you were taken the first time. Especially Roder…"

"I said not to talk about him! He doesn't care ok? A-And neither do I!" he shouted back. Why did everyone insist that Roderich actually cared about him? How stupid could you get? The damn pansy was always cold to him whenever he came around the house.

He sat in his "room" with his head out the window looking out at the gray sky. It would be any day now when Ivan would come around and get angry. Hell, he'd make the Russian angry if he had to. He almost wanted the heavy metal crashing against his skin, like the last time. He snickered darkly to himself. It would be satisfying to know that he would die awesomely.

Even when he was totally ready to face death head on, there was still that little voice in the back of his head telling him to escape, run as far as he could, and never look back. Yet he wanted to crush that feeling with his need for revenge against the Austrian.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door behind him being blown open by the tall Russian.

"I'm so glad you came back to me Gilbert," he started darkly. "I was beginning to think maybe you had forgotten me," he smiled eerily.

"Never. I wouldn't forget," he replied simply. The room darkened slightly.

Suddenly, all the Prussian could feel was the sharp sting of the metal pipe striking him hard in the lower back. He gasped and tried not to cry out.

"Now," the Russian began. "I'm going to make sure you don't forget again," he smiled as he spoke, and his eyes almost glowed in the low light of the evening.

Another strike to the back and Gilbert was on his knees, this time he winced, and the Russian punished him a third blow to the shoulder. Containing himself, he put his hand in his mouth to keep from screaming. A heavy metal ring was placed around his ankle, tightened almost painfully, and then locked to an iron weight. When it was fastened, the other struck him again harshly.

"If you try to leave again little east, I _will _kill you. Don't think you can run from me, as long as I'm here, I will hunt you down. There is no safe place for you to run, because I _will_ find you," he threatened. Then he left the albino on the floor while he stormed out.

Gilbert somehow crawled onto his small cot in the corner, and tried to soothe his swollen back and shoulder as best as he could. The Russian was angry and harsher than he had anticipated, and his only hope of survival was escape. Even if he couldn't go home, there had to be some place in the world where he might be safe from the Russian's wrath. Somewhere else where he could drown out the face of that damn aristocrat that had made him crazy for so long. He needed to escape from so many things, the albino fell asleep contemplating all the things he was running from, and dreamed of a place far away from all of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Ok, so I tried harder to make this chapter a little longer. As I get further into the story that will be happening. These first few chapters are kinda boring and short, but I promise they'll get even better though the title of my story is, November Alone, it might stretch out longer than a month, just saying. Thanks for all your story alerts/faves and reviews! They give me the will to write more! Hope you're still enjoying the story. ~CanvasPrincess_**

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A week passed of silence in the Austrian's house. Now he believed the severity of the Prussian's threats. _He's pulling a joke_. He tried to convince himself. _Any day now, he'll show up out of the bushes and laugh hysterically._ He got angered every time by that thought, and tried his best to push the man out of his mind. Today, he was going out. He needed a change of scenery. He went to find his keys to his car, and placed just so beside them, was another note. _How on earth did I miss that before?_ He thought. He opened it to see what the albino had written this time.

_**Wanna play a game pansy? I added a key to your girly key ring.**_

_**See if you can figure out where it goes.**_

The brunette sighed and placed the note down. Sure enough, there was a new silver key on his key ring. The shape was nothing like any of the doors in his house, it could possibly be one of the Prussian's own keys, but why would he ever go to that moron's home? Sure, his younger brother was nice enough, but he wasn't exactly friends with him. Shaking his head, he ignored the new key and left the house.

It was a cold day, and the Austrian was glad he had taken a scarf. Most of the trees were bare this time of year, and the sky looked empty and gray. He stepped into his car and drove out to the market, to buy ingredients for German Chocolate Cake, one of his favorites. _And Gilberts…_ he began to think, but he quickly dismissed the thought and kept his mind on the road.

He felt calm pleasure in shopping by himself. The smell of fresh baked goods wavered in the air, along with the quiet chatter of other shoppers made him feel secure. He was on his way to the register when he noticed a familiar Swiss gentleman and his younger sister not far away.

"Oi, Roderich!" he called. He walked over with his younger sister.

"Ah, Vash, it's quite a surprise to see you here," he replied quietly.

"Don't give me that! You see me here every time you come in. You don't have to pretend we never see each other," he half snarled in reply. Roderich had nearly forgotten the Swiss's harsh temper.

"Ah, well, it's good to see you both," he simply smiled in response.

"You look rather pale, are you feeling all right?" Lili, Vash's younger sister asked quietly.

"Ah, well, I'm doing ok. Tell me, have you seen Gilbert lately?" he asked, and was slightly surprised for asking. He could care less about the Prussian.

"Haven't seen him for days," Vash cut in. "Wouldn't you be the one who knows where he is? He's always at your house," he said with a confused tone.

"Did you two get in a fight?" Lili asked timidly. Roderich jumped slightly at that. _Could it be that he's doing this to get back at me for kicking him out?_ He dodged the question by answering Vash.

"No, he hasn't been by for a few days," he shrugged. The Swiss closed his eyes for a minute, thinking.

"Strange. Usually it's hard to avoid him. Perhaps he's sick and staying at home. I'd ask Ludwig if I were you, he's most likely to know where he's at," he decided firmly. "Now, if you'll please excuse us, we have to finish our shopping. We'll see you again soon Roderich," he nodded, leading his sister into another aisle. Lili waved goodbye and then turned to follow her brother.

_So he really is gone._ The brunette thought to himself as he drove home. He glanced at the silver key hanging from the ignition. _It could be to anything._ At last he decided he needed to know what it was for, and he was determined to find out.

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Three days had passed since the Russian had put Gilbert in shackles. He wanted nothing more now than to escape, and even as awesome as he was, he hadn't had the opportunity. He'd been kept in the room since he'd arrived, and had only been fed a few times. A couple times he'd fallen asleep, other times he lay awake. Thankfully, the Russian had not attacked him again.

Despite everything, he truly missed the Austrian. He mostly missed sneaking into his house and falling asleep on his couch. He missed his crappy light beer, and his amazing food. He missed teasing Roddy and pissing him off. _I kinda miss specs, not that he cares._

That stung, the more he thought about it. He hated the Austrian for being such a priss, and hated himself for still thinking about him so much. Hell, he was still trying to escape, and for what? He couldn't bring himself to answer that question.

That day at noon, Toris came up to bring the Prussian his food, and Gilbert finally discovered how he would escape.

"Hey Toris, guess what? You're gonna help me bust outta here!" he whispered excitedly when he closed the door.

"W-What are you talking about? That's crazy, you come here for no reason, why are you so insistent on leaving now?" he tittered.

"Because, I can't stay here. I wanna get out of here for good. I'm breakin' out and you're gonna help. Now, bring me something thin and metal so I can pick the lock on this shackle," the albino hissed.

"B-But, what about Ivan? He said if you left, he would kill you!" Toris whispered.

"That's only if he can find me. Now, go fetch me something for this lock! And hurry!" he ordered. Without another word, the other left to find something suitable.

He had plans. He'd run west, as far as he could go, then find a way to get across the ocean. Across the sea, out of Europe, perhaps, he might be safe. _Not like the creep is gonna follow me that far._ He smiled to himself as he waited for the Lithuanian to return.

Sure enough Toris returned with a paperclip. After straightening it out, he shoved in the lock and twisted it around. He had practiced picking locks at the pansy's house whenever he had felt the need to break in when he was asleep. _At least you were good for something_. He thought sarcastically. Finally, the lock gave and Gilbert was free. He thanked the Lithuanian and gathered his backpack, which for whatever reason the Russian had left untouched. Then he escaped out the window, and silently landed in the garden of wilted sunflowers below. He ran as fast as he could down the dirt road, away from the Russian's house, and toward something better.

When he was out on the long dirt path, a sense of loneliness came over him. Something deep down told him he should run back; go home to his brother and pet chick, where there was beer and internet. Determined, he shook the feeling off and walked on. _I don't need anyone else. I'm no longer a nation, even if I used to be one of the strongest in the world, it's all gone now, and I'm not needed._ He smiled to himself. _Besides, they don't deserve my awesomeness._ His ankles hurt from the where the shackles had held him, but he just kept marching down the vacant road and looked for something unknown in the distance.


	4. Chapter 4

**_So, I'm finally starting in on the fun part of the story. This is primarily a PruAus fic, but I want include as many of the other nations as I can. Sorry if the chapters aren't as long as I'd like, but even if they're a little shorter, I can write more chapters with more detail. Thanks for all the reviews and story faves/alerts. I will keep working hard! ~CanvasPrincess_**

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With the passing of a full week and a half, Roderich was convinced that Prussian was gone. To where, or for what reason he still was unsure. It was too empty around the house and it made the atmosphere almost unbearable. Determined to find some excuse to feel occupied, he went to work cleaning the house.

He started with the library, pulling every book down from the large bookcase, dusting and polishing the wooden shelves. He then spent time putting every book back in alphabetical order by the author's last name. Occasionally, the Austrian would open a book to check for hidden notes from the Prussian. He found none. With the shelf organized, he spent time vacuuming the carpet and cleaning the windows.

He went down the hallway towards the staircase dusting off all the photos. This sometimes pained him, staring at all his past. There were pictures of himself and Antonio. He had married Antonio entirely for political purposes, but sometimes it still upset him that their relationship hadn't worked out as they had planned. Then there were the ever-present photos from his wedding to Elizabeta, and the photos from their marriage covered most of the wall. Even though they both got along, and she even visited sometimes, Roderich couldn't help to feel upset when he thought about their past. He had considered several times to take the photos down and put them in the attic, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

At the end of the hall were the few pictures of himself and the Prussian. He wasn't ever in any relationship with him, nor was entirely sure he wanted to be. These pictures were just a few taken by Gilbert when he felt like teasing him. He wasn't sure why he had bothered to frame them or put them on the wall in the first place. For as long as he'd known the man, they'd been at war with each other, hated each other, and fought with each other. This fight was no different.

_And yet, I've never felt so alone._ The Austrian smiled sadly to himself. Even having an enemy around makes life more interesting. Suddenly, at the edge of one of the photos, Roderich noticed another piece of paper. He pulled it out from behind the frame and read what the albino had written.

_**I like this photo of you **_

Without warning, the brunette grabbed the photo off the wall, and threw it hard to the floor, causing the glass over the frame to shatter, and the simple wooden frame to split into pieces. _ Damn that man!_ He wanted to scream, but he regained his composure and went to get the vacuum to clean up the broken frame. Ever so carefully, he pulled the photo out of the frame, and tucked it into the pocket of his coat. When the frame had been cleaned up, he ran up to his room and put the photo on the windowsill.

When he finished cleaning the downstairs in the late evening, the first floor was spotless. Exhausted, the Austrian skipped dinner and headed upstairs to sleep. He had barely even changed when he fell asleep on the bed, being sure to leave the window open.

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Gilbert was on the run. He knew if he stopped for too long, the Russian was sure to track him down and kill him. He was heading west towards the ocean, but he was sick of walking. However, it was his only means of transportation. Occasionally he stopped into a town and ate, only to walk out a few hours later. When he slept, he made sure he was well hidden, and he would wake at first morning light and keep walking. He knew he was wearing himself thin, but he wouldn't rest until he had put as much distance between himself and Ivan as possible.

He was walking through a small town when he suddenly reached his limit. He had gone two days since his last stop, and he hadn't slept. He tried to keep walking forward, couldn't find his strength, and he went numb as he crumbled to the ground.

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The Finnish man had been out shopping with his husband when he saw the albino man collapsed on the sidewalk. Shocked, he ran over to the man's side and tried to lift him.

"Oh Berwald, look how exhausted he was! No wonder he fainted. We have to help him!" he explained worriedly. The Swedish man simply nodded, walked over and picked up the fatigued albino. Afraid, the other kept close by his side and stayed quiet while they walked home.

When Tino had unlocked the door to the house, he had the Prussian carried to the extra bedroom and tried to make him comfortable. He sat by his bedside wide-eyed as he the other slept. _I've never seen him in my life. How far did he walk to get here?_ He thought. The Swedish man put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"He'll be alright," he reassured the smaller blond. Tino's eyes watered slightly as he stared at Gilbert.

"What drove him so far from home?" he asked quietly. The other didn't answer. They both sat in silence by the bed waiting for the other to wake up.

* * *

Gilbert was having a vivid dream as he slept. The sun was shining brightly and Gilbert was standing in a field of golden wheat. The wind was blowing his short white hair in his eyes, and the wheat swayed around him. He walked forward, and the depth of the field went on as far as he could see. In the distance, he saw Roderich with his back turned to him. He called out, but his voice was muted and the brunette kept walking into the distance. He kept calling, and started running after him, but the Austrian stayed cold, never looking back. When Gilbert finally stopped running, a cold hand closed over his mouth, and he smelled sunflowers. The Russian had finally caught up with him. Ivan laughed, and everything went red.

The Prussian snapped awake in a cold sweat. He jumped forward, sitting upright, eyes open wide. He panted and his heart pounded as he tried to calm down. As he realized he had been dreaming, he looked around the room he was in. _Where the hell am I?_ He thought worriedly. It wasn't the Russian's house, so he was safe for the time being.

The door opened and a small blond man walked in, a glass of milk in his hand. He smiled sweetly at Gilbert as he closed the door behind him.

"You had me worried when I saw you lying unconscious in the street, how are you feeling?" he asked handing him the glass. He hesitated, but he sipped it cautiously before replying.

"I'm alright. Sorry, but who are you?" he asked the young man in a confused tone. The other simply laughed.

"Ah, of course, you aren't from around here. I'm Tino, and you're in my house right now, completely safe of whatever it is you're running from," he replied cheerfully.

"Gilbert. I need to get America as soon as possible," he replied breathlessly as he remembered his goal.

"Oh please! You can't go just yet; you're very weak from overworking yourself. I'd feel much better if you'd allow us to take care of you for a while. When you're well again we can drive you to the nearest airport," Tino insisted. As he spoke, a tall, well built blond walked in and sat down next to Tino.

"You took quite a spill." The other said gruffly. Tino laughed when the other spoke.

"This is Berwald. He helped me carry you here," he introduced him to the Prussian. Gilbert nodded in his direction as a reply. The Swedish man took off his glasses and tried to clean them while the other spoke.

"Thank you so much for taking me in," the Prussian said rather quietly. It was one of the most sincere feelings of gratitude he had expressed in a long time.

"No need. But, when you were asleep, you called out a name, is there a Roderich you want us to contact for you?" Tino asked in return.

The Prussian went slightly pale. He looked away before answering.

"No, never met a Roderich in my life."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hey everyone~ I hope you're still interested in my story. I've been kinda busy lately, but thankfully, I've been able to spit out another chapter. I do have a better sense of where this is going now, so I hope that I can finish this story. Thanks for all your support through faves/alerts/reviews. They are what help me keep working! Enjoy Chapter 5. ~CanvasPrincess

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December was growing near, just a few days away, and the air had turned much more sharp and cold. Roderich was beginning to panic, Gilbert was still gone. He found it impossible to do anything without turning around every so often to see if the Prussian would show himself. He spent a lot of time thinking, and a lot less time involved in his hobbies. Frustrated, he went for a walk outside, hoping to enjoy the scenery again before it snowed and covered everything in white down.

As he walked silently toward the nearby river, scarf pulled close to him, his breath making clouds in the chilled air. The trees looked hopeless and dead, leaf-less this time of year, but not yet covered with snow to make them appear pleasant again. He stopped when he came along the bridge in the center of the river. Looking for something he didn't want to see. _If he jumped from here…_ he panicked and tried not to think of it. He shuddered and stepped away from the edge. But the river was clean and pure, nothing out of place. Wherever Gilbert was, it wasn't here.

As the winter's first flurries began to fall, Roderich set himself on a new destination. He changed his walk to a hike uptown to where the Beilschmidt's lived. It was quite a long walk, something that Roderich hadn't taken into account in the past. He wondered what had possessed the other to walk all the way to his house so often. Maybe that was the reason he had been so upset for making him leave. He sighed to himself as he walked up the front walk to Gilbert's house.

Slightly nervous, Roderich knocked on the door. A few moments later, Ludwig appeared, looking slightly confused at the sight of the Austrian.

"Roderich? What brings you here? Did my brother get out of hand or something?" he asked confused. "Please, come in," he opened the door for the brunette to follow, and he obliged.

He closed the front door behind him as he followed Gilbert's brother into the living room. He had a look of anxiety about him, which didn't help Roderich's own worry.

"He's not here, if that's why you came," he sighed at last. Somehow, Roderich already knew what was coming, but he didn't want to face facts. Instead, he pulled out the key from a string around his neck, as a precautionary measure of course, so as not to lose it.

"Do you know what this is for?" he asked, desperate for an answer. The blonde glanced at the key, but then shook his head. "It's his alright. But whatever it's for is unknown to me," he replied disdainfully. Roderich was at a loss. He had half the mind to ask permission to search Gilbert's room, to find whatever it was the key was for. Instead, he thanked Ludwig for his time and walked home.

The house was slightly cold, since he had turned the heat of to save money while he was out. And dark, Roderich never had felt like the house had been quite so eerie before, he shook his head and pulled off his winter coat and went to make a cup of tea. His heart gave a happy little skip when he found another note stuffed inside the box with the teabags.

_**Hey specs. I hate tea. Just thought I let you know.**_

_**(P.S. That means either throw it out, or buy some beer like a real man)**_

For once, the Austrian just smiled at the piece of paper, and attached it to the fridge as if it was a to-do list. He mused over the thought of how the Prussian had even thought to stick his notes in such obscure places in so little time. Maybe he wasn't a total idiot after all. _Of course, he still had no taste in what was proper_, he reminded himself. He would be giving in to the albino's will to say that he missed him, and so he kept his mouth shut, and instead went to the piano to ease his mind.

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A few days with Tino and Berwald, and Gilbert felt much better. A few days into a few weeks, and soon, it was just days before December would arrive. As promised, Tino had Prussia driven to the airport, where he stood now, wondering just how he was going to get on board a plane without any money.

He sighed. He never seemed to think his plans through, and here he was, stuck on the wrong hemisphere, and if he didn't get to America soon, he would ultimately be taken back by the Russian. He needed to break all his ties here, and get away from it all. If he could get there, what better hiding place could there be than America? He opened his backpack and pulled out his phone, which had began to ring annoyingly, and there was a call from an unknown number, half afraid of who might be on the other end of the line, he cautiously answered.

"Bruder?" A familiar voice replied from the other end of the phone.

"West? Why are you calling me?" he asked, slightly annoyed, but also grateful because Ludwig was calling him.

"He came by today. He showed me your key, and I don't know what it's for, but he has it. Bruder, when are you coming home?" Ludwig asked in a worried tone. Gilbert had a hard time answering.

"… I'm going to America. I need to get a flight to get outta here, before Ivan catches up with me. I don't know if I'm ever coming home," he replied quietly.

"So you're going to run away? And leave everyone else? Bruder why are you doing this? All this running around like a vagrant, changing your mind about where you want to be the moment the situation gets bad, isn't that right?" West came back at him angrily. "You're not leaving, tell me where you are, I'm coming to pick you up," he snapped.

"No West. I'm not going home. Nobody needs me at home. If I go to America, I can disappear altogether. No one will have to worry about me anymore," he replied calmly.

"That's a horrible lie, and you know it. There are people you care about here, who care about you, and right now, you're just running away," His brother spat coldly into the phone.

"Bruder please let me do this. Please, pay for the ticket online, and then consider it like never buying anything for me ever again. Use my credit card, I don't care, but pay for it. I'm going to America," Gilbert insisted, persuading his younger brother to pay for him to leave the country.

"Do you even have a passport?" Ludwig continued to resist Gilbert's wishes.

"Of course I do. That, my phone, and clothes are about all I took with me. Now be a good brother and pre-order my ticket for the soonest flight." The line went quiet, and Gilbert could hear his brother clicking over the phone, he'd given in.

"Bruder, if you do this, you better come home. I'll talk to Ivan, and I'll get someone to restrain him from you. You can't live alone in America; I don't care what you say. You have a round-trip flight. I expect you to use it," the other grumbled.

"Danke, Bruder," Prussia thanked his brother for helping him escape.

"Please be careful." Ludwig added, and then hung up.

Gilbert closed his phone and put it in his pocket. He walked into the crowded airport, and approached the information kiosk to have his tickets he ordered online printed off for use. He forced himself through the incredibly lengthy security, and about 2 hours later, was boarding his flight.

He flipped his phone out again, and went through the pictures on his phone. He purposely drew up the picture he had copied from its frame in the aristocrat's house. His favorite picture of the Austrian, not that he would tell anyone else that, _but I already have…_ he shrugged and put the phone away. He knew this was the best way to make everyone forget him. He smiled to himself as he took his seat on the plane, and prepared for his ultimate vanishing act.


	6. Chapter 6

December came, cold and empty. Day in and day out, the Austrian kept to a pretty routine schedule. Wake up, make coffee, clean, play piano, make lunch, walk to the park, come home, make dinner, play some more piano, and then go to bed. He tried to stop thinking about the Prussian and accept the fact that he really wasn't coming back. He had no leads as to where he was now, what he was doing, or the meaning behind his ridiculous notes. Every night, he slept with the window open, no matter how cold it was. Somewhere along the way, he had begun wearing the mysterious key around his neck at all times, desperate not to lose it. He hadn't removed it once since he had last visited Ludwig about a week before. He wanted answers. He was finally beginning to admit to himself that he missed Prussia, dare he say that he was worried about him. _Why did he leave in the first place_? _What did he accomplish by leaving him the notes, or the key?_ He sighed as he took off his glasses and set the nightstand. He lay down and the worry followed him into sleep.

That night, the Austrian dreamed, which was something that he rarely experienced. He walked into a library, dark and musty, but the shelves were similar to one he had seen somewhere before. There were rows and rows of old books, some thickly coated in dust from decades they had spent untouched. Roderich followed the corridor of shelves until he came upon a spiral staircase which he climbed. At the top was another room filled with books, and a desk looking out a window. As he reached for the drawer of the desk, he only found it locked. Without warning, the floor gave in, and Roderich screamed as he fell into blackness.

The Austrian woke with a start, pace racing as he came to realize he was only dreaming. Calming himself, he tried to recapture what the dream had been trying to tell him. He remembered the desk, and the locked drawer, but could remember no other details of the dream. He moved his hand over the key on his neck. It appeared he was no closer to discovering where the key led then the day before.

The routine day began again. Although today, rather than his walk to the park, he instead went into the old chapel just a block away from his home.

The Austrian had never felt bound to any particular religion, nor did he feel close to any God, but the abandoned Chapel had always been a place that had soothed him to visit. The church's congregation had long ago left, and the building simply stood alone on a corner, never locked and hardly noticed. What truly moved the Austrian was the stained glass windows that let colored light enter the lonely place. He sat in the back pew and stared at the patterns in the glass. He tried again to recollect the pieces of his dream, wishing that it might help him find a clue as to where it belonged and why.

Roderich walked home in silence. He hated how much quieter his life had become over the month that had passed. Yet, he made no attempt to change it. No scream of frustration, no sigh of disappointment, he didn't even sit at his piano. Instead, he found another note tucked neatly away under the knife stand.

_**Missing me yet? Don't do anything reckless.**_

And that was all it took for Roderich to break. He slowly took the knife out of the holder and held it inches away from the back of his hand. He shook, and he set it down. He just couldn't bring himself to that level. He knew he would gain nothing from rebelling against Gilbert's warning. He snarled at himself for being a coward. He put the knife away and placed the note on the fridge with the others. He was Roderich Edelstein. He would never stoop as low as to give in to the Prussian. _It isn't worth it,_ the Austrian repeated to himself, over and over. Reassuring himself that it was all a hoax, and he wasn't about to fall for it. He tried to push him out of his thoughts, and let the house resonate in silence.

* * *

America. It was incredible. Lights flashing, people everywhere, it was a colorful, lively place. New York City was a spectacle to behold to the Prussian. _The city that never sleeps,_ he laughed to himself. He was free. Free from the Russian at last, as well as all his other ties to Europe. This was where an outsider like himself could fit in, blend in, and disappear. But of course, the last thing Gilbert wanted to do was disappear. He wanted to be the center of attention, and build a reputation for himself and make himself known. He walked down the crowded streets and felt like laughing out loud. _I'll never have to face the pansy ever again!_

Gilbert paused a moment over this thought. It bothered him slightly that he was thinking something like this, but maybe it was true. He never had to go back there again, now that he was here, where life was exciting and loud. But part of the Prussian suddenly remembered all the time he'd spent in the musician's home, falling asleep to the sound of Beethoven. He shook his head. _Nein. I'm home now. Once I find a place to stay I'm here for good. Where I'm wanted, _Gilbert decided firmly. Even so, Prussia held up the chain around his left wrist.

Well-hidden by his jacket was a simple metal chain connected with a lock. He would've taken it off, but couldn't, because he had secretly given the key to the Austrian. He wasn't sure why he had done this, because he assumed the Austrian would throw the key away, and he'd need a locksmith to get it off. But somehow, the Albino was glad he had done this, like it was a final link to his past, one that would eventually disappear. He smiled to himself, and headed into the nearest club.

Gilbert didn't have much money left, but what he did have left would be spent on beer. Beer was all he needed to find happiness. The club played loud rock music, which was at least tolerable while he drank a few beers. Never much of a dancer himself, he simply mused to himself about some of the people out on the dance floor.

Before he realized it, a young man had caught his eye. He was probably a little drunk, but the Prussian had to admit he was kinda cute. The blonde made his way over to where Gilbert was sitting. He leaned on the table, smiling at him. He had cute, medium-length wavy hair, where there was a single strand that curled that refused to remain flat with the rest of his hair. And his eyes, his eyes…

Prussia was shocked for a moment when he looked into the others violet eyes, which reminded him too much of Roderich, causing an overflow of memories to playback in his mind. Trying his best to forget again, he shook himself a little, and started a conversation with the other.

"You are?" He asked, smirking slightly at the blonde.

"Matthew," he replied curtly. "You? Never seen you at this club, eh?" he asked, and the Prussian picked a slightly foreign accent.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, new to America" he laughed as he answered. Matthew seemed to laugh alongside him.

"Well, come crash with me tonight. I'm a temporary American as well," he offered him. In Gilbert's mind, it translated to; _let's get the fuck outta here_. Common sense set aside, the albino consented.

"Come on, dance with me first," Matthew laughed, definitely drunk, the Prussian decided. Taking another sip of beer, he kicked all memory of the Austrian from his mind, and followed the other to the dance floor.

* * *

**_Hi everyone~ I had to put my comments at the bottom this time so I wouldn't spoil anything. I added a side pairing to the story, PruCan, which I've never really considered supporting before, so I hope its convincing X3. I like the idea of the pairing, but this is a PruAus story, so this is mostly for dramatic purposes. I know that Austria's POV is rather boring this time, but that's because next chapter will be really exciting, but I had to put this chapter up first. Right now, I think there will be between another 2 and 4 chapters. I'm not sure how much longer I need to wrap it up. Thanks for all your support for this story~ I love reading all reviews. See you next chapter! ~CanvasPrincess_**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Hi again~ I'm sorry that it's been forever since I updated. I was going back and forth between a couple different possiblities for how this chapter played out. _****_This chapter was highly inspired by the song "Collect Call" by Metric, and _**I finally decided on this set up, but therefore, the story is going to end pretty soon. I would expect that this will have only one more chapter. I've really enjoyed working on this story, and I'm really going to miss it. Thank you everyone who reads and reviews, I really appreciate your support ~CanvasPrincess. 

**_Oh~ and P.S. I'm considering writing a GerIta fic in the near future, after this story ends. 3_**

* * *

Roderich's dreary routine had become unbearable. The only thing that had changed was his inability to sleep. Every night, he'd been kept awake by memories and concerns that would prod his mind. He ended up spending the night tossing and turning to shake them from his head.

It was night yet again, and the young man was sprawled out on his back across his bed. The window was open as usual, and a frosty December chill would occasionally gust through the room. He'd spent his Christmas with Eli, and while he'd had enjoyable break from his the empty house, he couldn't deny that the Christmas party wasn't the same without Gilbert's ridiculous outbursts and excessive drinking. New Year's was fast approaching, and winter had hit them all head on. Tonight, as Roderich lay awake, he remembered a spring evening when Gilbert had come to visit.

"_Oi- Roddy, pass me another beer!" Gilbert called out. He was already red in the face from the beer he'd already consumed. Roderich gave a discontenting sigh. "Nein. You've had plenty. I don't feel like escorting you home," he snapped. He poured the rest of the beer cans down the drain. _

"_But Roddy, the awesome me NEEDS beer! I'm fine I swear!" he laughed, and he stumbled as he tried to get up. Roderich rolled his eyes as he threw the empty cans into a recycling bag. "AND, if you won't take me home, then I'll just have to stay here!" Gilbert insisted. He succeeded in throwing his arms around the other's shoulders. Groaning, Roderich just assisted Gilbert upstairs, and led him into the guest bedroom._

"_Stay here. Just go to sleep, and I'll drive you to Ludwig's in the morning," he ordered. Instead, the albino just grabbed Roderich around the waist and fell onto the bed. Still wearing all his clothes, down to his muddy shoes. _

"_Gilbert! You're going to stain the sheets! Take your shoes off! Release me at once!" Roderich ordered, but it was pointless. Gilbert simply snuggled into his side and hugged him closer._

"_My little Roddy," he giggled in a drowsy voice. He shortly fell asleep, and Roderich just gave a half smile, and said nothing._

Roderich winced a little as he the memory faded from his mind. He suddenly felt very cold. He curled up on his side, and pulled the sheets over his head. Another memory came back, this time to before his wedding to Eli, when Roderich had tried to teach him the waltz for the reception.

"_Now Gilbert, you put your arms like this, one on my shoulder, the other on the waist. The man always leads. A waltz is always in three-four time, and you make a box with your feet. One two three, One two three, like this," he explained. Guiding the other's feet to the recording of a slow waltz playing on the record player._

"_This is stupid Roddy. I don't wanna dance with a bunch of sissy girls at your stupid wedding," he complained, frustrated that he still was tripping over Roderich's feet. _

"_Try it again. You're doing fine," Roderich insisted. This time, Gilbert took a deep breath, and placed his hands correctly, and confidently guided the brunette in time with the music. _

_For just a moment, neither of them said a word, and they just looked at each other and spun to the classical music. The moment the song ended, Gilbert let go. He didn't say a word as he ran to the window and jumped out into the unknown. He never showed up to the wedding._

Roderich sighed again as he rolled over. Still unable to shake the memories that kept haunting him. Then, unwillingly, the last words he'd spoken to Gilbert reverberated in his head, loud and angry.

"_I never said anything about loving you." His own words rang in his ears._

"_So cold. Fine, I will leave. And if I don't come back, you probably won't care anyway,"_ _Gilbert coldly replied, full of hate. He watched again as the he headed out the front door, stomping away, and Roderich tried to reach out and stop him…_

Then, in the real world, Roderich's house phone rang.

Gilbert had moved in with Matthew, whom he was now close friends with. Both of them had been so tired when they came back from the New York club, they were both too drunk and tired to do much. He spent the next two days with him in his hotel room, and then went with him back to Canada. It'd been a fun car ride with Matthew, because he thought the young blonde had a good sense of humor, and liked to drink a lot. Matthew introduced him to all kinds of new music, which Gilbert liked listening to. Still, he couldn't meet eyes with him too often. Because it would get Gilbert thinking, and there was nothing that annoyed him more.

He still thought about Roderich often. More often than he wanted. He had hoped that moving to the western world would make the past fade away. It hadn't. If anything, he was still turning around to make sure the Russian wasn't following him, and still remembering past experiences with Roderich.

Even so, Gilbert was having a wild time in Canada. It wasn't as loud or busy as New York had been, but the small little town that Matthew lived in had lots to do. There was a pub down the street from their apartment complex that they would go to on weekends for a few beers. They had even offered Gilbert a part time job on the weekdays that he had gladly accepted, so that he wouldn't have to live off Matthew forever. He'd spent Christmas Eve in the bar, serving drinks to strangers, but wished he could've been the one drinking.

It was early one morning, when Gilbert was alone, he started thinking too much. Matthew had left for his job at the daily newspaper, and since Gilbert worked a night shift, there was always time he was alone during the day. Sometimes, he updated his blog that no one read, even though he had given links to West and the others ages ago. Today, Gilbert started remembering, even though he didn't want to.

"_I like being alone." He insisted to himself. "Being alone is awesome, just like me. I don't need anyone else," he continued. West was out with Feli, and he'd left Gilbert alone in the house again. Without even thinking, he got up, and walked all the way to Roderich's house, where he sat in the bushes outside the music room, and listened while the musician practiced Mozart._

_Then, without warning, the music stopped, and Roderich walked over to the window. At first, he glared at the albino for spying on him. But, after a minute of Gilbert making an apologetic face through the glass, Roderich opened the window and screen, and walked back to his piano. _

_Gilbert climbed up, and sat on the floor while Roderich played. It wasn't long before he fell asleep listening to the gentle piano._

Gilbert shook his head, tried to correct himself. "Tch, Specs isn't like that now. He's sick of me," he insisted. But he couldn't stop thinking when he was alone; there was nothing else to do. The day he came home from Ivan's the first time came back to him again.

_Gilbert wasn't able to say anything. His expression was blank, and his body was thin and ragged. His hair was matted from blood and dirt, but the damage to his body was far worse. All kinds of mangled scars decorated his arms, bruises blotted across his skin. His back, which no one could see in this first meeting, was imprinted with burn marks. West had come to take him home, not that he cared. In that moment no one mattered to him, because Gilbert had simply stopped caring altogether. Roderich hadn't come that day with his brother._

_A week passed, and Gilbert had kept to his room, staring out the window but not actually looking out it. He barely touched any of his meals, and was hardly seen by anyone. Today, he was sitting in a chair with his back to the door, when there was a quiet knock at the door. Gilbert didn't answer. Roderich entered the room, holding his violin case in his hand. He didn't say anything, as if he understood that Gilbert wasn't interested in conversation, and took out the violin and began to play._

_The melody was soft and warm, and it was soothing. Gilbert could no longer remember what song he played, only that it made him turn away from the window to look at him. Roderich was crying a little, but he had a smile on his face. He finished his piece and set down the violin._

"_Welcome home Gilbert."_

Gilbert suddenly made an impulse decision, not thinking rationally in the slightest. He whipped out his cell and dialed Roderich's home phone. _If he doesn't pick up, I'll just hang up._

The phone kept ringing through the silent house and finally, Roderich got up and nervously picked up the receiver, and held it to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked in a sleepy, almost sad voice.

At first, Gilbert couldn't find his voice to respond. _Priss actually answered…_ "Roddy?" he asked.

Roderich's blood ran cold. _He's alive._ "Gilbert?" he asked, a worried tone in his voice. "Why on earth are you calling so late?"

_Oh right, time difference._ Gilbert remembered. "It's not late where I am," he replied. "I wanted to talk to you I guess," he mumbled nonchalantly.

_There's so many questions I want to ask…_ Roderich worried. "Why? You've been gone for months." He reminded him coldly.

_Oh. He's pissed. He's always pissed._ "Sorry. I've got a great life now," he just shrugged, not sure what else to say.

_He's really gone. He meant it this time._ Roderich sighed inwardly. "So glad you're enjoying yourself," he mumbled softly. Roderich couldn't bear to talk much longer.

_Is he upset or something? Is it even possible that he could miss me? _Gilbert asked himself. He laughed into the phone. "You get my notes?" he asked.

_He doesn't even care. Why did he even bother to call?_ Roderich didn't want to answer. "Yes Gilbert. I found your notes," he answered blankly, staring at all the pieces of paper he'd collected on his fridge.

_He must just be tired. I probably woke him up. I shouldn't call again._ "Does West miss me? How's Gilbird?"

Roderich wanted to scream, _everyone misses you, you idiot! I miss you too you know… _"Your brother misses you. He's been taking care of Gilbird for you as well," he spoke softly, but his voice was cracking. His hands were shaking. His eyes were wet.

"Roddy?" he asked quietly.

_The hell is wrong with me?_ Roderich thought angrily as he wiped away tears from his face. "Yes?" he managed.

_He's crying._ Gilbert realized. "Roddy are you crying?"

_Damn it…_ Roderich couldn't respond.

A cold chill ran up Gilbert's spine. Guilt. "Hey, wait a minute, Specs calm down,"

_Nein! _Roderich thought angrily. "N-no. No I won't calm down." Roderich stuttered. "For god sake Gilbert, I've been living my life thinking you were dead! And now you just spite me by calling me just to say you're never coming back! I would've rather gone on thinking you were dead!" he cried, and he finally let out all the sorrow he'd withheld over the last few months, he fell to the floor with the phone held firmly in his grasp as he cried.

_He did care. _Gilbert suddenly understood just how much pain he had put Roderich through. He had insisted to himself since he left that Roderich hadn't cared at all, that Roderich was cold as ice and wanted nothing to do with him. But the more he thought back, the more he remembered, there were more memories of Roderich being friendly to him, and even with his orderly disposition, there was always that part of Roderich that had forgiven him. No matter how many times Gilbert had screwed up.

_ Will he still forgive me this time?_ "Roddy?" he asked quietly into the phone.

Roderich couldn't find his voice anymore. He barely managed a quiet "What?"

_I have to go back._ "Leave your window open." And not wanting to hurt Roderich anymore, he hung up the phone.

As soon as he got off the line, Gilbert started packing his things. _I've really screwed up this time._ He thought to himself. He planned to leave on the soonest flight he could back to home. By noon, he had finished packing, so left a note on the fridge for Matthew.

_**Thanks for everything.**_

_**But there's someone I have to go back to**_

_**-Gilbert**_

Roderich heard the line go dead, but he didn't want to hang up the phone. Instead, he fell asleep listening to the repeating "call ended" tone in his ear.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Well my friends, this is it. This is the final chapter of November Alone. I want to thank everyone that's favorited, watched, reviewed this story, and I wanted to end it the best way possible. I know it took a while to get this out, but I really hope it's worth the wait. If your interested in more of my stories, I am planning on writing a sad GerIta fic I've started work on called Germany, My Heart Is Breaking. With the conclusion of Novemeber, I will hopefully be getting the first chapter of this posted soon. If you're interested in more of my PruAus fics, send me a PM with some prompts and I might do some one shots. X3 Thanks for everthing everyone, and enjoy the finale to November Alone._**

* * *

When Roderich woke the following morning, his body ached from the position he'd been sleeping in. He made an attempt to stretch himself out, and then prepared a cup of strong tea to force himself awake. It still wasn't enough to make him feel truly awake. After everything that had happened, he felt like he was walking through thick fog. He couldn't make out how he felt, and everything around him was dulled and faded.

Gilbert had _run _all the way to the nearest airport. It did him no good. He had left Matthew's apartment around 10 am, complete with all his possessions in his single carry-on backpack. He still had the round-ticket flight that his brother had bought him, and he was grateful for it. However, it wasn't until he reached the airport that he realized that the ticket would only be of use to him at the airport in New York. He cursed wildly as he walked away from the airport for being so stupid. He sat down on a bench a few blocks away, trying to figure a way he could get back to that airport within the next 24-hours. He finally discovered a bus line that could take him back to New York, and he could walk the rest of the way to the airport if it killed him.

A rather frightening thing happened to Roderich as he entered his music room. He sat down at the piano bench and lifted his hands to the keys, but was unable to start making music. He played the notes correctly with professional technique, but the notes sounded so flat to him. The music sounded lifeless and mechanical as if they had been played directly from a recording. Roderich simply took his hands off the keys, and looked out the window. _I've lost all inspiration now, haven't I?_ It seemed so pathetic that he'd been moved this deeply by Gilbert's disappearance. Roderich was beyond denying anything now. It was simply a fact that he hated being alone in his large house that was filled with such daunting memories. He wanted Gilbert to come home.

It was getting dark outside the bus window as Gilbert sat impatiently while he headed back toward New York. He'd wanted to pull his hair out when they went through customs at the border, which had taken far too long. Now, the bus had been on the road for hours, and the sun had nearly set. He knew that he had to be home before dusk tomorrow. If he wasn't, Roderich would assume he was never coming home. Every inch of Gilbert's skin seemed to itch with the need to get back so he could talk to Roderich and apologize. His eyes traced the outline of faint hills in the distance of the freeway. All he could make out now was a dark blur along the horizon. _How much longer do I have to make him wait?_

Roderich spent his day in the music room with the door locked. He didn't play, he simply sat on the windowsill and watched the snow fall, covering everything and making the ground look pleasantly clean. He drifted into a dreamless sleep a few times, but never came away from the window. He kept hoping that if he waited long enough, Gilbert would jump out of the bushes the way he used to. When he finally admitted to himself that it wasn't going to happen, he left the music room and went back to his bedroom, which now had a dusting of snow on the floor near the window. The room was cold as ice, but Roderich kept the window open, unwilling to close it.

It was close to dusk when Gilbert's flight finally took off. He knew he'd be back home in the twilight hours of the morning, before anyone was up, but it didn't matter. He wasn't going to run from anyone anymore. If it meant facing Ivan, or Ludwig, or Roderich. Gilbert had to start standing up to his problems. He thought deeply about his resolve in silence as the flight bore on. He drifted asleep for a while, knowing he'd need all his strength when he landed.

When he touched ground at the airport, it was pitch black night. The sun wouldn't be rising for at least another hour. Gilbert knew he was still a good 30 miles from home. He was tired, but determined. He walked as far as he could until the sun came up. When it finally did, he stopped for a break in a nearby town. He had a stroke of luck when he bought a bike off an old man who was going to throw it away because he couldn't use it anymore. It was rusty from years without use, but it made travel so much easier. Even though Gilbert was no athlete, he forced himself to keep biking on the similar path he had taken when he'd left. There was a dusting of snow on the path, and the morning was chilly. Gradually, roads became more familiar and Gilbert would bike a bit faster.

Roderich lay crumpled on the floor of his bedroom. His skin was pale from the cold night wind. Flurries of snow dusted his clothes and hair. Dawn had risen in the house, and Roderich couldn't bring himself off the floor. His inspiration had become as blank as the white snow. He closed his eyes slowly, breathing deeply as he lay on the floor, still trying to believe it all wasn't true. Instead, his mind played the reel of memories of Gilbert when he'd been here. Gilbert hiding outside the music room window. Laughing uncontrollably when he'd had too much beer. Sulking when he had scolded him for intruding on his baking. Silent as stone when he'd come home from Ivan's completely broken. Calm and quiet when he fell asleep on the living room couch. The cold, enraged face he'd left the house with the final time. It was too much. Roderich closed his eyes tighter and clutched the key around his neck. He wished he could just forget.

Gilbert finally made it. Tired as he was, he finally parked the bike outside Roderich's front door. He tried to open the front door only to find it locked. He barely even hesitated as he ran around to the back and climbed up the thick ivy on the walls of the house to Roderich's window. It was open, even though he was sure Roderich would have normally left it closed. Gilbert swung into the room, landing softly on the windowsill. There was a thin layer of ice on the windowsill, and snow had made its way across the bedroom. Roderich lay on the floor, lightly covered in snow himself, and appeared to be asleep. Gilbert hopped down from the sill and sat down on the floor by his side. Gilbert had never seen the man look so vulnerable before. He was so still, for a moment he was afraid he was dead. But Roderich's still form moved slightly, and his eyes fluttered open to look at Gilbert sitting next to him.

"Mornin' Specs." Gilbert smiled, his voice a little unsteady.

Roderich thought he was dreaming. It was another memory that had come to haunt him. But he blinked, and blinked again, and Gilbert was still there. He had a sheepish smile on his face, and his hair was glistening in the bright light.

Without thinking, Roderich sat up and threw his arms around him. He buried his face into his shoulder as his eyes watered a bit.

"You came back," he exhaled, and his body shook as he cried again. Gilbert put his arms around him, cupping his head in his hand.

"I did," he chuckled quietly. He didn't want to say anything for a moment as he let Roderich cry. It wasn't the same as on the phone. Then had been anguish, and now was relief.

Gilbert lifted Roderich's head, took off his glasses, and kissed his eyes. He gently kissed away the tears rolling down his cheeks. When he kissed Roderich's lips, Roderich stopped crying altogether and held him closer. In that moment, whatever relationship they'd had in the past was forgotten, and whatever they were now didn't matter. They kissed repeatedly, almost desperately, as if they couldn't get close enough. Both clung to one another as if they would crumble if they let go.

"I'm sorry," Gilbert murmured. Roderich gripped the back of Gilbert's shirt tightly.

"Then don't leave me again," Roderich whispered, his head lowered. He had calmed down now, and he continued. "I don't want to be alone in this house anymore. I hate living here when it's dull and gray outside and the trees are bare. I hate that no one comes to visit and it makes me feel like I'm trapped in here with my past." He broke off again as Gilbert lifted his chin again.

"I'm an idiot. I'm awesome, but also an idiot. I assumed you really didn't want me around here, so I left. I learned a lot when I did. I know I can't run from everything. No matter how far I ran, the past still caught up with me. I also realized I hurt you a lot. So, I suck at relationships and crap, but I know I'm not gonna leave home again. Or at least, I'm not going unless you go with me." Gilbert tried to get the words to come out right, but he couldn't manage it. Instead, he held up his wrist with the chain and lock around it.

Without saying anything, Roderich pulled out the key from around his neck. He twisted it in the lock and it clicked. The chain fell to the floor.

"That's not the only thing the key is good for, you know. It also unlocks the lock on my bedroom door. I figured that maybe you'd go to West's and ask him about it, except he doesn't know. I left you a note in my room, but I figured you wouldn't get it," Gilbert shrugged a little.

"Another note? What did it say?" Roderich laughed quietly as he put the key back under his shirt. Gilbert said nothing, and he grabbed his bag from the windowsill, and pulled out a pen, and then tore another piece of paper from his notebook. He scribbled something, and then lifted his head.

"Close your eyes," he instructed. Roderich did, and he felt the folded paper pressed into his hands.

"Now open."

He did, and when he unfolded the paper, he blushed and his eyes started watering again.

_**Ich liebe dich, mein Roderich.**_


End file.
